Unity of Peace
by tremor3258
Summary: Inspired by the 34th Unofficial Literary Challenge - Rear Admiral Vexa has peacetime patrols of the Delta Quadrant startled by a First Contact with an unusual request.


Unity of peace

By tremor3258

Inspired for Unofficial Literary Challenge 34: Entry 1; 'Cult'

Timing: After 'Echoes of Light'

* * *

The bridge viewscreen resolved from the trailing 'stars' of warp space to a blue dot; lit by a low-power yellow dwarf. After a moment, magnification showed it was a lovely Class M, oceans a healthy deep blue, vegetation laying out stripes of orange and green across a supercontinent. Another second's work at the operations console, and a red dot highlighted the Hazari-built freighter they'd come for. Its impulse engines were cracked open, though the radiation that had forced the crew to abandon had gone cold.

"Talaxians picked a nice planet to blow a driver coil over, it seems, with nice clean orbitals. Wouldn't have to worry that their escape pods were any better maintained than their engines," Commander Deni, grumbled, leaning on the railing. The bridge crew of the _Scryer_ -class _Delphi_ payed it little mind. Tellarite society was famous for its fluidity, with a social order defined by conflict and stubbornly holding our own. Deni was a proud member in good standing; if he was mad at the universe, it meant he had no direct targets.

Rear Admiral Tiriana Vexa glanced over briefly, hiding a smile with long practice, but the black pools of her Betazoid eyes shone. "I'm not sure I've met a fringe trader who was going to shell over hard currency for a refit until they absolutely had to, Deni," she admonished lightly, "And we saw the surge from that quantum pulse a dozen light years away. Even Starfleet coils would've burned a few thousand hours up channeling it."

"Federation fringe _watch officers_ would be smart enough to be somewhere else when they saw the harmonics start," Deni insisted, "The fact we had time to pop over for the distress call shows it's a safe sector now, no need to go shoot the straits."

"We'll see what had them in such a hurry," Vexa promised, "After all, they're in no condition to complain if you go massage their computer cores a little when we're patching the up. Porik," she called, the joined Trill turning from in front to nod, "No one's called up yet and we're only a few light-seconds out, so let's get our bearings. Get a sweep started on the planet, see if we can make it more than a dot on the map before we head in. And ready the intelligence drones for a close-in sweep of the freighter. Check if, ah, they had anything that helped the accident along."

The Trill nodded, and grinned briefly at Deni and swept fingers through her hair. It was bright blue this week. The Tellarite rolled his eyes. "Class-M planet, chlorophyll absorption detected. Life-forms; and from the patterns it looks like they're farming. And I think I'm getting a road-network, not just a mining camp or smugglers' den here," she said, "And, I've blocked out the ship; the only thing on subspace is the distress beacon."

Deni and Vexa glanced at each other, alarmed. "EM Spectrum sweep," Vexa ordered, "Stand-by cloak."

"Oh _damn_ ," Joryl said, at tactical. The Bajoran lieutenant commander looked bleak when Vexa turned around. "Hull sensors are picking up a repeating collimated light beam, started just a second ago. It's pretty dispersed from the navigational deflector but not a natural phenomenon."

"EM Spectrum is shining," Porik said, "Confirm use of EM-bands for communications, at least industrialized civilization."

"With _very_ good telescopes," Deni said, horrified, "And First Contact procedures. They had, what, thirty seconds with the lightspeed lag to spot us?"

Tiriana could feel the despair washing over the bridge, but her training kicked in before attempts to push it away. "All stop, deflectors off," she ordered, voice gone bleak, "Get that laser figured and find me the transmission point. Launch probes and get me a full workup. I want absolute confirmation there's only one set of transtators down there. Start feeding radio transmissions into the translator matrix."

She sighed and rubbed her eyes briefly with the basics done. "No Prime Directive out here, but a lot of desperate people," she said. "What's done is done. And it's always possible they're avoiding spaceflight by choice. Start sending a first contact package when you isolate the transmission site."

Deni made an undignified snorting noise one didn't need telepathy to translate.

* * *

A few hours later, they'd advanced to visual communication, though Vexa could feel, and share, the thrum of irritation at the delay imposed by the crawl of light that went over the bridge. The locals were, at least in part, called the Nrimovs; and their scans showed they were fairly average humanoid – cranial ridges, a dusting of hair on top, several dark bands of melanin.

The Brigadier Tels Vernin who had signaled them seemed to fit that mold; perhaps a bit of sagging at the edges of the face and going to portly. The military uniform he wore was well-tailored, and surprisingly austere for a high-ranking officer, all black cloth and a few dull brass bars for decoration. Captain Mela looked like a ray of sunshine in comparison, in elaborate trader's garb currently favored in this part of the Delta Quadrant.

For a few days from an escape pod, the Talaxian was surprisingly kempt, both in couture and manner. He was also polite enough to let her speak first after the introductions.

"Brigadier, in our section of space, the Federation prefers to avoid interaction with species before they are able to join the interstellar community of their own accord," she started, "This is an unusual situation for us, so there is little I can offer besides thanks for sheltering our allies."

A slight pause, and Mela ducked his head the slight. The Brigadier didn't seem to react, though that meant little at this remote communication. After a few more seconds on his end to assure they had stopped speaking, he began, "Admiral, I wish others shared your ideals. Our world was occupied by the Vaadwaur during the extent of their campaign, and our histories show contact with the Krenim Imperium centuries ago. We had been capable of reaching our own moon, but the Vaad completely destroyed our space capacity, to use our world as a R&R facility." At the last words, his expression darkened, considerably.

"I understand," she said in response. She could guess what visions lay behind those suddenly stormy eyes, and it would be easy to confirm. Into her arm controller, she typed, _Library search – legal and diplomatic precedents for pre-warp contacted planets_ , and sent off to the sociology teams on deck 4. Time to prep another article for scholarly submission.

"I can at least assure you the Vaadwaur have been broken," she continued, "They do not have an intact outpost within forty light years."

"I will shed no tears for their power being broken like so many before," the Brigadier said, "That will be a relief to some of my people, that the state of emergency has ended. Mela and his predecessors have mentioned some of you – a vast government that somehow remains intact?"

Mela interceded before she could respond, "Admiral, my trade league had been following the trail of Vaadwaur salvage when we found the Nrimov. We've been trading items like high-value fertilizers and factory equipment to help rebuild their infrastructure. No gun-running, just mutual enrichment. Probably the highest-grade item is communication equipment."

"I'm glad to hear that," Tiriana said. She even believed it to be true, if not honest. The Talaxians were too scattered a people to be great weaponsmiths. But that was a Hazari ship Mela had been riding in, and while their mercenaries went far afield, there was a strong infrastructure backing the Hazari up.

After the delay, the Nrimov spoke again, "Admiral, your questions may be easier to answer without the delay. You are welcome to enter our planet's orbit, and make inquiries from there."

"Thank you," Tiriana said politely, "Set course two-four-one mark one-six, set for standard orbit, one-quarter on mark. Brigadier Vernin, I would like to continue the information exchange, so we'll need to move slowly with our deflectors off. I'd like to check the Captain's ship to ensure it is safe. We can send more information on this channel for a strategic workup of local space; if you could send more data on your species' physiology and recent history, that information would be very helpful. We are still working against Vaadwaur renegades, and the fuller picture of their activities, the better"

The delay passed and, "Of course, Admiral," the Brigadier said, "I hope we will be able to meet in person. Continuing data flows on this channel." The viewscreen cut off.

"All right, while we're waiting to see what precedent says about diplomatic relations," Tiriana said, " _Check their story_. Get me sweeps of orbitals and start close-scans for Vaadwaur-style alloys on the planet."

"And there's the judgement that got promotion," Deni said drily, "Refusing to take two people's words for a world, even a friendly Talaxian. They could genially be taking both sides and have tried to ship in an antimatter generator."

"Or worse," Tiriana said, "But we're out past the Guard, so the Talaxians are the biggest game around. Why sell valuable items like computer cores or replicators when you can just sell the output of an environmental synthesizer at a huge markup?"

"They may not have replicators," Deni mused, "Takes a lot of work to get computers to that level, but if they had any workshops on board and any asteroid anywhere they could churn out silicon-based rectifiers for lightspeed comms forever."

"It's not like one Talaxian is the Occupation," Joryl said, speaking as she tapped over the console, running scans. "Even if they're doing a mercantilism thing with easy wins; they couldn't have that much affect."

Tiriana could feel the flash of triumph from Deni before he spoke. "Lieutenant Commander, give me a half-hour with a replicator, a space the size of even the _Delphi's_ cargo bays, a matter-feed and an ensign to push buttons and I could build a fabricator that would crush any pre-transtator civilization's telecommunications industry in crippling permanent dependence." Joryl bristled a little, but she was cut off before she spoke.

"The Vaadwaur were depraved, but not stupid," Tiriana said, "The planet may not _have_ any capacity to build radios after they were done. Tactical analysis show any possible threats in low orbit?"

Joryl sighed, conceding to her superior officers. "Took a little while to move the drones in on stealth, and Porik had priority for getting the planet scans," Joryl said, "Low orbit's pretty clean, but orbital decay's had a year to work there. There is a fair amount of metal in geosynch, but we'll need to beam some aboard at this point to confirm polarons blew it apart. I did do some scans where the lasers originated, there's several other sites, but lasers aren't a threat. No evidence of particle beams anywhere, so I don't think they can hurt us. The very low level of vegetation growth near those transmitters makes me think they're a year old."

"Porik?" Tiriana asked.

"Well, I redirected a bit from our general survey after he mentioned the Vaad," the Trill said, "Looking for signs of violence, there is a lot of rebuilding happening, but there's scattered craters in isolated areas. I was thinking meteorites but after Joryl lent me the drones, I sniffed out traces of reinforced concrete and reactive chemicals."

"Military bunkers?" Tiriana asked.

"Some, but most are probably ballistic missile launch locations," Porik said, "No traces of radioactives, but the Vaad may have beamed those out first; no reason to wreck the _Lebensraum_."

"Very thoughtful," Deni said, not sounding impressed at all.

"You've isolated which are the Nrimov on life-scan?" Tiriana asked, "Population and technical estimates? Any hints to political distribution?"

"Neutrino emissions show fusion power is pretty common. Atmospheric levels of short-term and long-term pollutants indicate petrochemical usage dropped, probably the last few decades," Porik said, "Population looks around five billion or so; not unusual given land area. Though the population is unusually evenly distributed for that technical capacity. They certainly have the ingredients for a space program."

"Keep us in slow, then," Vexa said, "I'm going to go check with Sociology what our next step should be. Take the conn, Commander."

She stood, and Deni moved into the seat. "Nice job buying time with the slow approach," he offered, grudgingly.

"If they want to keep the conversation more private, that's fine right now," Tiriana said, "Radio would be easier for others to pick up and we still need to confirm the story."

"I notice you didn't mention we could do a probe as a relay," Deni said.

"If Mela didn't think of it, I'm not bringing it up yet; and I don't want them looking for items in orbit," Tiriana answered. The close-range intel drones the _Scryers_ carried where very hard to spot and intercept, but she wasn't inclined to make her people's job harder. She left to the turbolift, worried.

* * *

She wasn't feeling that much better a few hours later when she'd gathered up her senior staff to a conference room.

"We've got a couple work bees patching up the holes in Mela's ship," Ten'titia, her engineering chief was reporting. She was calm, but Ten'titia was also Kobali, so the Prime Directive was more a loanword to her. "So far, it's looking like an undershielded impulse driver coil got caught up in a subspace harmonic, and overloaded. The manifolds collapsed and cracked the fusion reactor housing. The Hazari expect to be in a group, so this ship alone has pretty poor environmental reserve. They had to be somewhere else until the radiation cooled off."

"I suppose a whole different ship is the last word in redundancy," Tiriana joked briefly.

"We also did a forensic scan on the computers and cargo bays," Ten'titia continued, "Unrefined ores and gems – mainly topaline for the former, a small selection of artwork, and some biologicals in vacuum-proof seals. We're working back through the computers, though that will take a while."

"What sort? Medicines?" Tiriana prompted.

"Library computer said they're in the acceptable range of Talaxian spices, none I recognize," the engineer said. The Kobali, Tiriana recalled, had an unusual sense of taste thanks to their rebuilt brain structures.

Ten'titia hesitated briefly, though Tiriana could feel a flash of amusement. "Also, we discovered a silicon transistor printing station in one of the cargo bays," she said.

"All right, all right," Joryl said with some irritation.

"How long will repairs take?" Tiriana spoke over the end, not trying to grill her tactical officer too hard.

"Another few hours for tests, they probably could have handled it except for the radiation," Ten'titia assured, "Warp engines are in good shape, but they needed a new impulse coil, and we're molecularly welding up the fusion vessel. Then just power everything back up and hand it back to the owners."

"Are we?" Deni asked, "This doesn't feel right."

"We have no reason not to," Tiriana answered, "There's several precedents along the Federation/Klingon border and the precedents were upheld on several worlds on the flanks during the Dominion War, and in humanitarian efforts after the Romulan Star Empire collapsed. The Talaxians are supplying, but at the local technology level only; no items that the locals can't maintain."

"That is suspiciously pat," Deni complained

* * *

.

"Ambassador Neelix was equipped with the body of Federation law to support his position," Tiriana said.

"I'm glad they're playing it safe," Deni said, who didn't sound that way.

"These are the remnants of a species whose government, and half the quadrant, was smashed in a devastating war two generations ago," Ten'titia said.

"And I've got my questions exactly how that started," Deni said, "As far as here goes, I guess it's down to confirm the government, establish diplomatic relations, and since we're past the usual patrol grid, whistle up the Hazaris and collect a finders' fee?"

"Seems so – keep gathering local information, get a message off to Delta Command with a status update," Tiriana said, "And prep a couple of shuttles; Joryl and I will take them down with a medical and security team."

"Shuttles?" Ten'titia asked.

"Let's keep the surprises to the minimum, on our side," Tiriana suggested, "A transporter is a huge advantage if you don't know how to counter it, and I don't want this world considering all the ways it could be abused. We're on the edge of explored space, an allied world would be a huge benefit towards stabilizing this sector." She smiled. "I rather like working on the frontier and don't want an excuse to send some other young upstart out here."

The transmission point and designated landing field was a good -sized facility, much of it devoted to the massive radiators the Nrimov had to rely on. With the laser buried below-ground except for some lensing, it looked more like a chemical plant. Only a small road went to it, though, with some very large landing pads for local atmospheric craft.

The mind-tone Tiriana picked up as she and Joryl directed the shuttles; spiraling around the UV beam of the laser, was _military_ and watchful, not bureaucratic. And the watchfulness had some real fear behind it, but not for the aliens; the pitch remained the same as the two Type-8s settled in for a landing at the main pad.

Looking out the windscreen as she went down the checklist, she could see Mela waving cheerily with some of her crew, as Brigadier Vernin and his staff emerged from a small lean-to, obscured by the dust.

"What were they waiting on?" the security team chief; a Lieutenant Kyle asked in surprise.

"Helicopters," Tiriana answered, "I've got a, uh, eccentric, uncle who flies them – really tremendous dust and windblast. There's no runway, so they're using vertical."

"If you say so, sir," Kyle answered.

Tiriana smoothed her uniform and waited for the hatch to drop. Vernin raised his hand to his head in a complicated salute; Tiriana replied with one that did Starfleet Academy justice, at least.

"Shall we, Admiral?" Vernin said smoothly, gesturing to the bunker. Tiriana nodded, in some surprise – for an apparent major leader, the staff was small; only three other individuals.

"Of course, there is a limit to what I can offer before a formal Ambassador, but I'm happy to answer your questions," Tiriana said, for about the third time. "If I may; I have brought medical staff to check Captain Mela's crew – her ship is nearly ready, I'm sure she's ready to resume her route."

"Of course," the Brigadier said, "I'm continuously amazed how many of you will fit in those tiny craft, though," he commented as a squad of six poured out of the hatch. Mela waved again cheerfully.

"Well, it's not a long flight from orbit," Tiriana said, "We're not too worried on life support for such a short trip."

The Brigadier nodded, doubt radiating.

* * *

The interior of the bunker was air conditioned and cool; with a large table but only a few chairs situated around it. Tiriana was politely directed to a seat; Mela at one side – and hid a quick smile. From the feelings she was picking from the locals, that was the 'foot' of the round table.

"Admiral," the Brigadier started, "Mela has told me some about your Alliance and the Federation, and how you are a large distance away."

"That's true," Tiriana said, "We are relying on an artifact from the Iconians to transit from our space quickly; we have a high-speed network of transwarp corridors in our space, but it will be some time before they can be extended this distance. A realspace path between this sector and our home stars has been surveyed, though." _Voyager_ was too complex to go into here, if she could help it.

"Yes, but your government is very far away, and most of your major members have had spaceflight for a short time," the Brigadier said. "There have been species active in space, or reclaiming space, for millennia. Our planet faced great wars; and is barely stable – we are a touchy people, I suppose. Your government has just finished a war with the Vaadwuar and the masters. I see no reason not to extend ambassadors, but how much support can you give for our allegiance?"

"The Federation is primarily an alliance for mutual trade, defense, and knowledge sharing, not a feudal system," Tiriana said, "But setting up trade and technical missions for humanitarian grounds is very common." There was something there, she could feel it on the tip of her tongue. "But Brigadier, we are relatively young, but have encountered hundreds of species. Some of our most prominent worlds celebrate multiple cultures even under a single government."

"Yours?"

"Well, no," Tiriana said, "My species is telepathic, it tends to defeat the trend of civilization towards bureaucracy."

Joryl offered, "My people previously relied on a caste-based social structure, but we've restabilized into a more merit-based system after um, contact, with a neighboring species." The Dominion War echoed through Bajor, but was far enough ago no fire hit Joryl's eyes.

"Ah, perhaps the Federation is simply fortunate in timing and neurochemistry, then," the Brigadier said, "Let me be straight; Admiral – we know our world's position is useful, and how many 'empires' have collapsed in these sectors. We wish one thing of you; your ships are much faster than the likes of Mela's, and you can bring it."

"Who?" Tiriana asked, "The Hirogen? They are long survivors, but I warn you, they aren't the best treaty makers."

"The Borg," the Brigadier said simply. "The Vaadwaur, the Hirogen, they have outlasted them all, and remain united in their original purpose. Only they remain, and they will remain. We desire no conflict; I beg you, I you are protectors of peace, to bring my people to them."

Tiriana stood, eyes blazing. "You can't be serious! There is no unity there – it's one voice, and it _scre-_ " her statement was cut off, dissolving into a sudden transporter beam.

* * *

"- _am!"_ Tiriana finished, finding herself in _Delphi's_ transporter room two along with the security team and Joryl. Deni was standing behind the transporter console, manning himself.

"What in-" Joryl began, but Deni silenced her with a look.

"Captain, sorry, saw you had company, but we just cracked the nav logs we pulled off the ship- you know how we were wondering how Mela missed that harmonic?" Deni said. Tiriana nodded briefly, worried. "Well it looks like she went _looking_ for something in this area."

"That's ludicrous, she had no idea how dangerous it could get," Tiriana said, "But that puts a few pieces into place." She tapped her commbadge, "All hands – yellow alert, get me a laser link with the Brigadier."

"Yeah, I'll be willing to assume she _wasn't_ planning to nearly killer her crew with an overdose," Deni said grudgingly, "But false pretenses on an undiscovered planet? Rather not have to strip the security rota to come rescue you."

"Lucky we may have caught them by surprise," Tiriana said. She glanced at an inactive, but reflective console as the ship's lighting shifted to warning status, checking the transporter hadn't ruffled her composure. "But I think they're okay with us showcasing such a ferocious power."

"Well, give me some spatial charges and a map of their infrastructure," Joryl offered, "That ought to shake them. Wanting the Borg-"

"NO!" Tiriana said, "We're not starting a war, or being party to starting one."

Deni said, "They are literally no threat – the worse that happens is this is beyond the frontier and we _go around it_." Deni paused in mid-rant. "Wait – did Joryl say Borg? I knew people at Vega, and they want to meet them?" Deni actually spat, hitting the deck. The normal transporter crewman winced.

"Clear the room," Tiriana ordered, the rapidly flaring emotions around her, were pounding on her. "I need to center; a lot of energy swirling and no target for it." They did so – one of the perks of being responsible was also getting to give commands.

The transporter room was not too bad to center in; the massed containment fields and capacitors gave an extra layer of background noise over the warp engines. Given a little distance, practice through the repeated exercises helped her find herself, instead of being carried away on other's currents.

She strode out after only a few minutes; her time was not her own, and as long as she had a core it would have to do. The staff she'd ejected were waiting patiently in the hull.

"Never figured," Deni said, "Why you took an intelligence ship when they offered it. This is a violent business a lot of the time."

"It was on the _Mutara_ too, can't avoid it as part of the job," Tiriana said, "And it's not like Starfleet has a very deep personnel pool right now." She stretched briefly. "Speaking of violence, what's been the planet's reaction? Have they contacted us?"

"Their C&C net isn't very fast," Joryl said, "Lot of confusion going around – there's been two messages to start putting control centers on alert that got countermanded. We've not detected any batteries warming up, but sociology figured they'd be more missiles than directed energy weapons for ground batteries, and the Vaadwaur clearly taught them to keep those mobile, though we're not picking up clusters of high-density radioactives, so they may have good shielding."

"Or being using something better," Deni argued, "The Talaxians may be in the radio business today, but they could have easily shipped a few photon batteries in, and they're used to not having the high orbitals, the sequence of stand-downs could be a signal."

"A couple modern torpedoes might snipe on a fully up-to-date planet," Tiriana said breezily, "But they're so flat in subspace, they fire up an impulse engine we'll see it in plenty of time, and we're already at standby."

"Fine," Deni said grudgingly.

"Since the military isn't in immediate response, anything on the civilian bands?" Tiriana asked.

Joryl rolled her eyes, "Plenty, but sociology hasn't seen anything spiking outside their data model yet to indicate alarm – plenty of martial valor stuff, and the need to be prepared and unity, but no general alerts or emergency signals, yet."

"Then time to take some initiative," Tiriana said, "Main conference room, senior officers, five minutes, see if we can get a laser link back up."

* * *

The link was answered on the first time, surprisingly. The Brigadier's countenance was downright stony, but Tiriana could match that. Mela was still in view, surprisingly.

"My apologies," Tiriana said blithely, "But we had an emergency situation involving the Captain's ship that required on-site decision making." Mela swallowed, visibly.

"Have you reconsidered my request – we would have great gratitude to your work as an intermediary?" the Brigadier replied.

"Brigadier, we are allies with a splinter faction of Borg called the Cooperative, but I beg you, for the sake of your species and everything within light years, do not seek the Borg," Tiriana said. "The hive mind is not a sharing of thoughts, but an obliteration, to an animal desire to seize and improve. We have pulled people out before, in fortunate situations and great risk. Even the best of us do not return undamaged. Your people really seek this?"

"Our people _are_ damaged," the Brigadier said flatly. "If you seek to limit us in this way, I must, as head of Planetary Defense, consider you the next invader to our system in such a long line, and take appropriate matters."

The connection cut out. Deni groaned; Tiriana could not afford theatrics.

"Red alert! Full shields!" she snapped. "Maximize close-in scans, and get us some maneuvering room; half impulse, maintain orbit." The ship hummed, coming to life as it energized, the familiar shudder of the impulse engines pressing Tiriana briefly into her seat.

"Picking up activity in the gamma bands!" Joryl said, "Shielded launchers."

"On screen, if you can," Tiriana said.

"Just a wireframe," Joryl apologized – it was some squat landcrawler, at least eight wheels, with what looked like a blockhouse on the back.

"At least two meters concrete," Joryl said, "Thermal conductive storage loops too."

"That would stop any Vaad wide-scan, and anything of ours on passive," Tiriana agreed, "What is it carrying?"

"Heavy neutron scattering spatial charges on some. Most are still on fusion warheads. Acceleration looks like high-acceleration ion thrusters for propulsion," Joryl said. Deni pffed.

"Don't forget this setup would be going for the sucker punch," Tiriana said, "They may have telegraphed, but a pirate raider coming in out of warp would not be in a pleasant space, and they'd never see it coming."

"Sir, Ma'am?" Joryl said, "Can I suggest quantity has a quality? I'm reading four hundred individual launchers, and I'm not reading enough pings for it to be anything but a centralized salvo."

"Yes, definitely let's see the far side of the moon," Tiriana suggested. The ship gave a faint hum as the thrusters kicked in, lifting their orbit.

"Then their best bet would be to invite us down again, not go to high alert," Deni said, "We've almost got their communication network to where I could make it sit up and beg at this point, so they had to know we'd see this coming."

"Your analysis of the drive?" Tiriana could tell a plasma drive, but the specifics were for specialists.

"Doubt it can compete with full impulse," Deni said, paused, and added grudgingly "Though missiles don't need to be built for endurance, so they might have some tricks. But unless that thing suddenly grows a navigation deflector local space is energetic enough its CPU will be a radiation-riddled wreck before it could catch us. The important thing is they're getting ready to shoot us rather than they _can_."

"You noticed that too?" Tiriana said absently.

"What?" Deni asked suspiciously, "The good Admiral may remember that we can't hear her thought processes aloud."

"And if you captained a crew of Horta, you could go naked to work and they wouldn't notice," Tiriana replied, on usual measure. Waving off her grumpy XO, she tapped a communicator on her chair's arm. "Sociology department, you have any more on that precis? I could really use it for comparison."

"Sorry, Admiral, we're dealing with a group still under aspects of military law – the 'expected' morals and behavior of civilians we're still trying to cross-reference," reported the section chief, "There's an unusual emphasis on obedience above the baseline for a near-spaceflight species undergoing technological growth, but we're not sure if that's normal or post-invasion yet."

"Launch!" Joryl said, "Four hundred kilometers apart – two ion flares, lower atmosphere. Looks like chemical boosters detaching, but they're accelerating at five-Gs now."

Tiriana exchanged a look with her second.

"Yeah, you don't have to be psychic – one could be a mistake or someone jumping the trigger. Two that far apart, without a planetary network, is deliberate," Deni said, "Definite, pure provocation. Not graceful, but you have to admire the classics."

"Confirm tracking and warheads, Joryl," Tiriana said, "Get targeting locks."

"Spatial-charge impaction devices with fissile material coatings. We'd see some radiation exposure from direct hits. They're projected to impact in five minutes if we maintain this course and speed, catching us as we swing around," the Bajoran said, "Point defense standing by. I've got some evasive courses ready."

"My console," Tiriana said, and briefly studied. "This is just an arrow pointed away from the planet," she observed.

"That's all we need," Joryl said, "They could do real damage to a bombardment station in low orbit, but anything with an impulse coil, a collision avoidance routine, and a head start wouldn't have any real problem. We could suck their power cells dry from five light seconds, this is a pretty desperate mismatch. If they'd tried this against the Vaadwaur, well…" she trailed off. Inhabitable planets were a relative rarity; life was easy to extinguish with a starship, and the Supremacy's backs had been against the wall at the end.

"Yes, the easiest thing would be to acknowledge the state of affairs, and leave," Tiriana said, "Delta Command would prefer peace, but we're not here to provoke violence."

"Very true," Deni said cautiously, "So what are you doing instead?"

"There's an old saying about the easy way and the hard way – but here violence is the easy way," Tiriana said, "Let's remind the Quadrant the Federation is more than Starfleet." She smiled briefly, "Comm, get a call into Delta Command we'll need an embassy team," she ordered, "Deni – you've been bad-mouthing their comms system, so let's get to educating them on the danger of a single supplier."

* * *

Victory Square had been the capital of the largest government of the Nrimovs; before the Vaadwaur had introduced themselves via demonstration polaron strikes, clearing a zone for a cargo shuttle landing pad. Under the emergency powers, it was in common hands for rebuilding, but even the will for symbolism was no match to the economic issues of digging through two meters of quick-set concrete.

They'd thrown some review stands and laid down some traffic lanes, at least. It was a popular path, even as new monuments were debated; there was little to run into, with plenty of distance possible.

The quiet commute of the evening was interrupted, as every traffic signal in Victory Square and every navigation device went to an emergency alert, plunging traffic to a halt. Fearing another attack, cars were abandoned by their passengers, frantically paging their various commlinks for information.

"Please stand by," was the only response, "For planet-wide broadcast." All other queries were ignored.

A rising wind started to stir the area, pushed down from above, and people looked up, and then frantically threw themselves to the ground, worried about more bombardment, for there was a new star in the sky.

The wind pressure increased, but fire and death failed to rain down, even as the star failed to resolve, at least at first. Finally, it grew close enough to show shape; a six-meter cylinder, which barely clanged as it set itself down neatly, rocket nozzle first, onto the pavement. The pressure ceased, but there was enough light left to see the clearly local markings on the bizarre delivery from above.

"Attention," spoke every speaker, simultaneously, a chorus of a woman's voice – one, later learned, heard around the planet.

"This is Admiral Vexa of the United Federation of Planets," said the voice. "We were answering a distress signal in-system and were contacted by your civilization. Our intention is peace, and hope to establish full diplomatic relations. A tragic accident has been averted, and we are returning components of your defense systems as a symbol of our willingness to peace."

"The universe is full of challenges; your race has fought more than most. I promise to work with your government to help find how we can help remove the scars of the Vaadwaur. It is not easy, it is complicated, but we are here to help."

The communique stopped. Then the shouting started.

The shouting was even within the inner circles of the military government, for the most part. The exception, in Mela's mind, was worse.

"You said they had left," the Brigadier said quietly, "Gone from your sensors, as well as ours."

"They were!" Mela insisted, "And Starfleet has most of their military forces recalled to their space, they couldn't fight a war if they wanted one after you declared."

"But you didn't," came a pleasantly modulated Betazoid voice, one Mela was rapidly coming to hate. "No declaration was issued, and Starfleet is fairly insistent on freedom of space for navigation, as well – Brigadier, I know you feel we can't understand – but it is our deep desire to learn."

"What have you done?" the Brigadier said.

"We literally had the blueprints to your communication system, Brigadier," Admiral Vexa replied, "And we wished to avoid a mistake."

"Our people," the Brigadier said, "We always fought, overcoming the other has been our great stronger. Only the Vaadwaur were enough to unite us – how can you understand, if you have mindsight?"

"Because within my parents' lifetimes, my planet was conquered," she replied, "It was a terrible time, with long scars if you know where to look. It is an easy mistake that those who seek peace do not understand war; many of the Federation Council have a long history of bloodshed."

"What?" Mela said, "Not what Neelix said – you're genial, you poke around, you insist, with endless _rules_. And you stay out of it – admirable, usually. You're the perfect opponent for when you don't want to fight a war."

"The Federation prefers not to be in wars of any kind, we can offer a lot more than that," Vexa said, "And you're underestimating what we can do; the _Delphi_ is one ship, but with the Federation library I could build you a new literary tradition, cite social construct precedents on a dozen worlds, give schematics for upgrading your tech base to replicators…"

That had Mela looking a bit sick, and the Brigadier interested, leaning forward. She could feel the waves, confirming the body-language.

"Peace is always harder than war, Brigadier – you should consider the Federation's power in that regard – we worked for it in the Alpha Quadrant, and can in the Delta. Where shall we begin?"

* * *

Author's note: Vexa has shown up a few times; usually with other characters (most notably her Kobayashi Maru). She's slightly more normal, but still Starfleet, so the bar is high as far as capabilities.

The initial challenge was a group of people to not offend but wanted to be taken to the Collective; this is a bit different, but it was a great plot-starter.

I imagine an intelligence species where proximity was somewhat uncomfortable would have interesting problems before the Vaadwaur showed up. I wish them well. Peace _is_ a long process, but one Tiriana can turn over eventually; information is light-weight, they don't need _that_ big a team.


End file.
